Ghost Love
by Eliz-Masters
Summary: After 10 years, Damon comes back from the city and his new life to visit his small hometown. But when he sees his deceased high school sweetheart, Elena, his world is turned upside down. As Damon falls in love again, he begins to question his sanity and must face the impossible choice - to lose his mind or to lose his true love. AU and slightly OOC. Rate M for later
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing both the plot **

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_Chapter 1: Generator, First Floor_

The gravel crunched underneath the SUV's tires as Damon pulled up the long driveway to his three-story childhood home. Damon stared up at the house, smiling, memories rushing to him. He had so many adventures here between his toddler to teenager years. Damon parked his car and walked up to the wrap-around porch, pulling out his rusted house key. The floorboards still squeaked when he walked, and the screen door creaked when he pulled it open. Moths and various types of weather had left holes in the mesh screen, but the door had retained most of its white paint.

Damon opened the thick front door to the foyer and was greeted by the winding, spiral staircase that led up to the second level. He leaned over to the wall to see if they lights still worked — they didn't. Damon made a mental note to go outside to the generator located in the garage. When his parents had built the house, Damon's father had hoped to save money and gas by installing a hand-crank power generator. While it did save the family money, allowing them to pay off the loans for the house two years earlier than expected, the generator was the largest pain in the ass for Damon growing up.

Damon began to explore the home, climbing up the wide stairwell, searching for his old bedroom door. He chuckled to himself. He remembered all of the times he snuck Elena through his window...Damon frowned. He was barely in the house for five minutes and he was already thinking of Elena.

A shiver ran down Damon's spine. He turned around, feeling as though he was being watched.

"Hello?" he called out, wondering if his parents had hired a house-keeper to look after the house while they were in New Bern. He assumed they hadn't when he first entered due to the condition of the house — but then again, he could be wrong. When he didn't turn hear a response, he continued his path towards his room. He figured the house was just drafty and wished he had brought a sweater.

He arrived at a door with an old Green Day poster duct taped to it. He smiled at the Dookie poster's cartoon explosion.

_"Green Day is just a group full of teenage stoners," Elena laughed, looking through his old CD collection._

_"Yeah, well, they're good. Better than that top 40 shit that always plays," Damon replied trying to focus on his calculous homework. "Besides, you've probably only listened to 'Longview.' You can't judge them based off one song."_

_"True, but still," she giggled, tying her hair up and bending over farther. Damon looked up from his textbook and admired her perky but, smiling to himself. "Ah! Dashboard Confessional! Now that's a band!" She took the CD out of its plastic case and popped it into his boombox._

_"You listen to Dashboard Confessional?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow at the quirky girl._

_"Yeah, I think they're awesome. Kind of whiny, but I'm totally into the brooding, teenage angst stuff." Elena winked at him and resumed her search through his bedroom. "You need more Enya."_

_"Oh god, you have to be kidding me!" Damon sat up, running a hand through his unruly brown hair. "That Celtic yodeling shit?"_

_"Enya is a spiritual goddess and my soul mate, you will not curse her great talent in front of a follower!" Elena sternly chastised, wagging a finger in his direction. She walked over to the bed and stared down at him. "We clear, oh ignorant one?"_

_Damon reached up and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her down onto his bed, flipping her over so that her back was against his pillows. "Crystal, oh wise one," he smiled, proceeding to kiss her neck as Elena laughed, her giggles echoing around his room and filling his senses._

Damon snapped out of the memory, still recalling her laugh perfectly. The pitch, the resonance — everything rang in his ears as if she was right behind him still. He shook his head and entered the bedroom, the scent of his teenage cologne clogging his nostrils.

He sighed at the sight of the dusty room. Everything was exactly where he had left it. He still had his math pun and Star Wars posters hanging on the wall, sagging slightly with age. His bed still had his old, warm quilt draped across it, and his boombox was still on top of his dresser. He walked over to his bed and sat down, testing out the mattress. It still seemed to have some spring left in it, making it a suitable place to rest for the night.

Damon stood up and walked over to his bookshelf, inspecting the labels. Everything from TS Eliot to a complete collection of Einstein's publishings were crammed into the six-foot tall shelving structure. He pulled out a book at random — _The Hobbit_ — and inspected its condition. The spine was still broken and his scribbles were still embedded in ink in the margins, important passages circled and underlined. Damon smiled to himself. He still did this to his books.

Damon was about to begin reading with a shard of plastic caught his eye. The sun was pouring from his western-facing window, marking the time, and reflected into a brilliant rainbow from the broken plastic near the foot of his bed. He leaned down and picked it up — it was an old CD case. Damon got down on his knees and pulled out a broken CD and pamphlet. _A Day Without Rain by Enya_. Damon clenched his jaw. No one really had been in his room since he left for State. Elena's broken gift was proof.

Damon cradled the shattered plastic in his hand and laid down on his old bed. He slammed his eyes shut, trying to block out the unwelcome images threatening to flood his thoughts. He came back to Arapahoe to prepare the house for selling, not to reminisce about his ex-girlfriend. Did Elena count as an ex? Damon wasn't sure — but that didn't mean she was welcome in his mind.

Throwing an arm over his eyes, Damon groaned. It was a mistake coming back to this house. He should have allowed his mom to clean and pack like she had offered. The only reason he had insisted he take the responsibility was because he knew his mother was too busy with his father's funeral arrangements. Damon didn't want to add more stress to her already-full plate.

Damon let out a sigh and adjusted his position on the bed. He always did have a comfortable mattress. Relaxing into the sheets, Damon's mind started to null, and his breath began to even out. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought he could faintly hear the gentle hum of a celtic yodeling...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_Ghost Love~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Elena rushed into the room, excited. He was back from college! Damon had returned. She was a little upset that he hadn't come and visit her as soon as he arrived, but perhaps he wanted to sleep first. She assumed he wasn't getting much rest in a cramped dorm room.

Elena stared from the doorway, admiring him. North Carolina State's engineering program was already starting to age Damon — he looked as if he was 10 years older! While she wanted to run and wake him up, she decided to explore her favorite house so that he could relax. She had missed him while he was gone! She missed his laugh and his sarcasim. Elena sat beside him on the bed and played with his hair. She tried to run her fingers through his once fluffy hair, but found that she couldn't grasp any of his strands — they were too short.

She saw a book on the floor and thought of tidying up the room a little. She bent down, reading the title and chuckled. Damon was still her little nerd, and she was glad college hadn't changed that about him. On the ground beside the book was a shattered CD case. Elena frowned, noticing the familiar cover. This was the Enya CD she had gotten Damon for his 18th birthday last year. She knew he was upset with her when he left for college, but he wouldn't have destroyed something she cared about, would he? Elena bit her bottom lip and blinked back angry tears. Maybe college had changed Damon more than she thought.

Needing a moment to herself, she got up and exited his bedroom, heading for her favorite place in the Salvatore house — the attic. When she reached the third floor, she pulled a rope to bring down the built in wooden ladder. She climbed up, easily bypassing the locked ceiling door, and breathed in the welcoming scent of sawdust. The Salvatore attic only had about 200 square feet of stable floorboards, and most of this space was occupied by antique trunks full of the family's heirlooms and memorabilia. The rest of the attic was made up of thick, criss-crossed beams, only meant to support the house's pointed roof. Elena loved to walk across these beams to reach the staired glass windows facing opposite sides of the home. Her favorite was the western window because there was a tiny alcove, big enough for two to lay in. Elena sat down in this alcove, which happened to be two floors directly above Damon's room, leaning against the window.

Thinking of how Damon had changed, Elena curled into herself, scared. What if he didn't want her anymore? He was the only redeemable part of this horrid town! Letting out a sob, Elena began to gently rock back in forth in an attempt to comfort herself. She only had one request for him when he left, and that was to not change. He had promised her that he would return exactly the same as he had left! Holding herself tighter, her sobs gradually crescendoed as her heart break worsened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_Ghost Love~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Damon woke with a start, his breathing heavy. He reached and touched his forehead, completely confused. He could have sworn that he felt a hand...Damon shook his head. He must have been having a vivid dream. He looked around the dark room, noticing that the sun had set long ago. He checked his watch — it read 12 am. Rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair, he chuckled sarcastically to himself. He still had to activate the generator. He groggily rose from his bed, stretching out his sore limbs, attempting to get his blood flowing properly to them. He took out his phone and turned on the built in flashlight, making his ways down the stairs and out the door towards the garage. He quickly cranked the generator, hearing the gentle buzz, alerting him to the now operating wires. Grunting, Damon turned the crank enough times for a full days worth of electricity, more than he had when he was younger. He didn't want to have to go back out in the morning.

Once the manual labor was done, Damon went to his car to retrieve his duffle bag. He reentered the home, turning on the now working lights, new clothing and toiletries in hand, only to hear an echoed crying. Damon frozen.

"Who's there?" Damon called, hearing his voice ricocheted off of the white, wooden walls of the foyer. "This is private land, owned by the Salvatores. Whoever is in here is trespassing and I won't hesitate to call the police!" Damon paused, waiting for a reply, but all he heard was the sobbing. It sounded like it was coming from upstairs. "Goddamn it," he muttered, dropping his duffle bag and running up the stairs.

As he ascended into the second floor, the sobs grew louder. They were clearer and had a higher, more feminine tone to them. Damon clenched his teeth, frustrated. _An emotional female squatter is _exactly_ what I need right now_, he thought sarcastically. He followed the sounds to the third floor, his heart beat accelerating.

"Look, if you have no place to stay, Arapahoe has a great Y. I'd be happy to pay for your room tonight," Damon sighed, his palms sweaty. The third floor always made him nervous. "You just can't stay here."

Damon looked through the three rooms and found no one, but the sobbing persisted. He gulped and nervously looked up at the dangling rope. Pulling down the ladder, Damon climbed up. He tested the attic door and found it to be locked. No one would be able to get into the attic — he didn't even have its key. Making his way back down to the first floor to get his bag, he assumed he was just hearing things. No one else was in the house.

He just needed more sleep.

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**Hello! Thank you for clicking on this story! It is loosely based off of the album _Weathervanes_ by Freelance Whales. I was going to make this into an orignial story on Fiction Press, but I decided it might make a better fanfiction...I know this chapter is a little OOC for Elena...sorry about that, but there is a reason! Leave a comment and let me know what you think!**

**Elizabeth**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot**

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_Chapter 2: Hannah (Part 1)_

_10 years earlier_

Damon made his way into the school, iPod in, trying to ignore everyone. He had spent the fifteen minute bus ride to Bayboro in silence, hating having to return for his senior year at Pamlico County High School, where all 500 students knew everyone else. His senior class consisted of about 160 students from across Pamlico county, and he was the one of two students from Arapahoe. Most of his former classmates from Arapahoe Charter had dropped out before year 10. Others had just moved. _And rightly so,_ Damon thought grumpily.

Damon went to his math teacher, Mr. Mikaelson, to go over a calculus problem he couldn't figure out before he was allowed to go to his locker. Pamlico County High School had a twenty minute break between when you were allowed to enter the school and when you were allowed to go to your locker. While there was never an official reason, all of the students knew this was to allow a twenty minute period for the administration to search "suspicious students." Damon never did anything wrong, so he has nothing to worry about.

Damon entered the classroom and shrugged off his backpack. There was a note on the whiteboard reading, _"Damon, there was a staff meeting this morning. It may be running late. Hope to be back for the first bell, but if not, come back during your lunch block."_ Damon sighed and ran a hand through his scruffy brown hair and pulled out his books - he might as well reattempt the problem while he waited.

Damon scratched away on his loose leaf as the first bell rang, signalling for students to head to their lockers. With no sign of his teacher, he threw his books into his bag and was about to leave when Mr. Mikaelson burst into the room, smoothing out his tie. Damon raised an eyebrow and Mr. Mikaelson shrugged.

"Apparently a junior was convicted for attempted rape yesterday during band camp," The short, well-dressed man said scratching his the back of his head. "Since it was on school time, it is school issue and now is addressed in the newly revised code of conduct you'll be getting at the top of lunch," Mr. Mikaelson explained, gathering his papers for class.

"Ahh, gotcha, I see," Damon nodded, awkwardly. "Didn't they revise the code at the end of last year when that freshman brought a knife to school?"

"Well, they had to clarify that rape is a punishable offense," Mikaelson sighed, clenching his jaw. Damon laughed sarcastically.

"This school's a gem," Damon dead panned, tugging at his hair. "Beautiful student body." Pamlico County High School has had fourteen different instances with student violence in the last eight years. This caused for a very rigid and conservative code of conduct set in place by the School Board to help the "safety and wellbeing of Pamlico's students."

Mikaelson laughed, stroking his jaw, "You should head of to class or you'll be late. Don't want to start your senior year off on the wrong foot - you may never get out of here then." Elijah Mikaelson had grown up in Pamlico County in the 80s, when the coastal county still had remnants of the segregated southern 50s and 60s. Mikaelson was unusually liberal compared to the rest of the town, and was ostracized for sympathizing with the town's African American community. He graduated PCHS and went to the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill, but his mother had gotten sick and he returned to teach in his former school. Damon had a hunch that if Mikaelson didn't have to care for his mother, he would have left the county that mistreated him and his friends twenty years ago when he graduated college.

"Nah, it's ok, I got Honors Engineering three first period. Pilling loves me because I know how to add," Damon shrugged, adjusting his backpack strap on his shoulder. "Haven't you heard, Mikaelson, I'm sort of 'going places.'" Damon said, emphasizing his sarcasm with air quotes. Every teacher Damon had for the last three years had told him he was "special" and to "never listen to his fellow students" because they were "jealous of his abilities." _Yeah, his ability to not be a traditional southern hick. Definitely something they should be jealous of,_ Damon thought bitterly, remembering the countless taunts and remarks made at his expense.

"Still, don't press your luck, kid," Mikaelson said, erasing his message to Damon on the board and writing up a few algebra problems for his first period. Damon walked closer to examine them as students began to slowly make their way into the classroom.

"Aren't you going to challenge them at all, Mikaelson?" Damon laughed, solving the first two problems in his head quickly.

Mikaelson raised an eyebrow and pointed to the door, "Out, Damon, I've got freshman to scare." Damon laughed and patted the mentor on his back before he exited and headed off to his next class.

Damon's first period droned on and for an hour and half and Damon knew this class wasn't going to be a challenge. His classes never were a challenge. If they had been, he wouldn't have already finished all of the math credits his school had to offer two semesters ago. If these classes had been hard, Mikaelson wouldn't have had to privately tutor Damon since his sophomore year. The reality, however, was that Damon was never challenged in his past 11 years of schooling. Neither Arapahoe or the rest of Pamlico county had a challenging enough school, and this year wasn't going to be any different. The public school system had failed Damon.

Damon had just plugged in his iPod and began to start drafting his semester project when the bell signalling the end of class rang. Surprised, he gathered together his things and headed off to second period - AP Literature and Composition. So far his day had been predictable and boring. Damon sighed and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Nothing ever changed in this town.

Settling into a seat, Damon pulled out his copy of _Frankenstein_, the book they were assigned to read over the summer. He had already read it sophomore year, so he had gotten the chance to highlight and annotate the book, ensuring that this unit went by smoothly. Ms. Fell was what some considered a hard teacher, but Damon thought she was just picky and anal. He exactly what he had to do to easily pass this class with an A — he had Ms. Fell before. The few other seniors shuffled their way into the classroom and Damon fought the urge to roll his eyes. The students who were in this class made him want to laugh. Tyler Fell (no relation to their teacher), "Blonde football" player who Damon never bothered to learn the name of, and Rebekah and Klaus Michaels. Four idiots who believed they were smarter than they actually were, Damon thought, smirking. He knew his friend Alaric wasn't in this period, because they had talked last night to compare schedules. They only had AP Physics and lunch together this semester. Damon sighed and realized he would have to fight through this class on his own. The bell rang and Ms. Fell began her lecture on the history of Frankenstein and Mary Shelley. Damon jotted down notes, barely paying attention.

"Excuse me, is this room 210?" A quiet, feminine voice asked from the door. Damon popped his head up, curious.

"Yes, may I help you?" Ms. Fell asked, clearly annoyed. Damon rolled his eyes. Bitch, he thought.

"Oh, I was just...I'm in this class I suppose," the girl said, fumbling with her schedule. Damon observed the girl - he didn't know who she was. She had tan skin, long, brown locks, and round brown eyes. She had an aura of mystery and innocence surrounding her. The girl wore a blue dress and complimented her complexion and accentuated her long legs. Damon swallowed, suppressing a groan. She was beautiful.

"Let me see your schedule, please," Ms. Fell demanded, sticking out her palm. The girl handed over her schedule and Ms. Fell examined it. "I'm sorry, but there's a mistake. There are no juniors in this class - it's an AP." She shoved the schedule back at the girl and began to walk away.

"Oh, I know," the girl insisted. "I just transferred from France and I'm a bit ahead of the curriculum here, so they placed me in this class—"

Ms. Fell sighed, cutting of the girl. "I'm sorry Miss..."

"Gilbert," the girl responded. "Elena Gilbert."

"Well I'm sorry Miss Elena Gilbert, but I teach _seniors_ in AP Lit—"

"Just call the administration," the girl stubbornly interrupted. Damon chuckled. She had spunk. "You'll find it was no mistake," she said, standing her ground.

Ms. Fell sighed and turned towards the phone, angrily pounding in the counselor's extension. "Hello, Mr. Patterns, I have a junior named Elena Gilbert who says she is in my senior AP Literature and Composition class. Clearly she is mistaken, yed?" Ms. Fell asked, pausing as she waited for a response. Clearly something Mr. Patterns had said on the other line had upset her, because Ms. Fell stiffened and huffed. "Very well. But I am not happy about this." She quickly slammed the receiver down and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Well, it appears that you are supposed to be in this class, Miss Gilbert. Go sit by the Salvatore boy. Damon, make sure the junior doesn't fall behind on school work, yes?" Ms. Fell sighed, looking over at Damon in his corner.

Damon furrowed his eyebrows and clenched his jaw. He didn't want to babysit an underclassman, no matter how beautiful, but he grudgingly nodded, moving his bag off of the empty seat next to him. He could hear Fell and the Micheals snickers from the other side of the room. As the girl made her way to him, Damon noticed how blonde football player couldn't take his eyes off of the girl. Good thing rape was added into the code of conduct, Damon thought. Otherwise this girl would be girl nodded to Damon as she took her seat, and shuffled through her bag.

"Sorry to break it to you, snowflake, but I'm not tutoring you," Damon quietly murmured to her as Ms. Fell continued her lecture. "I have college apps to do."

The girl chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Not necessary, _honeybuns_," she replied, pulling out her own worn copy of _Frankenstein_. It was already stuffed full of sticky notes and annotated far more than Damon's was. "I'm in this class for a reason. But if you ever need help, feel free to ask," she giggled, gesturing to his book.

Damon smirked. "What brings you to the desolate community of Pamlico County?" Damon asked, ignoring the useless lesson altogether.

"I moved from France to live with my aunt and cousin in Arapahoe," she replied. Damon raised his eyebrows, curious. "Wasn't really my first choice to finish the remainder of my high school education."

"Well, from the only senior from Arapahoe, welcome to the community and the school," Damon smirked. "It's a shit show. The name's Damon." The girl laughed.

"Elena. And thanks for the...realistic welcome," she replied, running a hand through her long hair.

"Let me see that," Damon remarked as he leaned over and snatched her schedule from her desk. "'Advanced art, this class, advanced honors vocal music, and honors fifth year math.' A science girl, huh?" Damon laughed, looking over her schedule. She had to be talented to be in the advanced art programs, and Damon noted that she was in fifth year math for her first semester, just like he was last year. _Smart, too,_ Damon noted.

"Love it, actually," she responded seriously, pulling out a spiral notebook to attempt to take notes on. "However, I've already taken this school's basic courses, and they weren't willing to create an AP for one student since they're offered only in the spring. Mr. Mikaelson apparently had a free fourth, so I was allowed to be privately tutored in a math class that was closer to my level."

"Yeah, I did the same thing last year," Damon nodded, handing her her schedule back and shifting in his seat to face her. "They ran out of challenging math to teach me, so now he tutors me privately in Calc 202."

"Really?" Elena asked, surprised. "I thought my aunt had to jump through hoops to get me this schedule, but that's much more convenient. Will you also be in that period getting tutored?" She asked, tucking her schedule into the pocket of her backpack.

"Nah, he normally tutors me after school or at lunch. You're welcome to join, if you want. We have the same lunch period. Oh, that is, if you think you can keep up, snowflake," Damon smugly said, copying down what Ms. Fell was writing on the board.

"Well, honeybuns, I'm a lot sharper than you think." Elena raised an eyebrow challengingly and Damon smirked. They pair remained in silence for the rest of the period, studiously taking notes. When the final bell rang, Elena quickly got out of her seat and packed her bag. "See you at lunch, honeybuns," she smirked, turning and walking out the door. Damon chuckled and stared at where she once was, running his hand through his hair.

This girl was something else.

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**Here is the second chapter. I was going to wait until Friday at the earliest to post it, but I really wanted to get it out! Hope you enjoyed it! There will probably be a few flashbacks for background, but I don't think they'll be that often. The chapters are named after different songs in the album this is inspired by, just as a heads up. **

**As for the last chapter, s****orry for any confusion. It is intentionally confusing so you can understand what Damon will be going through in this story.**

**Let me know what you think by leaving a review! **

**Elizabeth**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot**

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_Chapter 3: Starring_

_Thunder was crashing down in the distance. The power had gone out because the generator hadn't been cranked properly. Damon was 18 again, and his parents weren't home. He was searching, but what was he searching for, he didn't know. But it was important that he find it. _

_He followed a trail of some kind up the third floor steps. It was wet and sticky and it had a slightly shine. But it was smeared across the floorboards, staining them. The lights began to flicker — maybe the generator wasn't out entirely like he thought — and he could faintly tell that the trail was red. Blood red. It was blood. _

_Damon grew curious and sped up, wondering where the trail led, but got distracted by his favorite sound. His ears were filled with the sound of giggles _— _Elena's giggles. It was the most beautiful sound in the world to him. He paused, kneeling on the wooden floorboards and just sat in the blood, absorbing the sound. He smiled and breathed in the scent of her fruity perfume._

"_Elena," he sighed, happily, a grin slowly spreading across his face._

_But his happiness was short lived as a piercing scream broke the melody of giggles. He knew that scream. It was Elena's scream. _

"_Elena!" he shouted, struggling to get up. But he couldn't. His knees were glued to the floor by the blood. As the screaming got louder and shriller, blood began to flow quickly down the stairs, attacking Damon. He let out a scream and tried to cover his face, but the red river only increased in force. Damon had no choice but to swim through the blood and up the stairs. _

_Damon struggled to move against the current. The blood flew faster towards him, drowning him. He couldn't move _— _he couldn't climb up the stairs._

"_Damon! Help!" Elena cried from above. With a new found motivation, Damon fought against the crimson tide, slowly making his way up the stairs. He had to get to Elena before it was too late. _

_When he reached the third floor, he was surprised to find it spotlessly clean. There were no blood stains anywhere. "Elena! Where are you?" he called out, but there was no answer. There was just a defining silence. The silence sucked the air out of the hallway, suffocating Damon. Taking small breaths, Damon began to search the rooms. Elena was no where to be found. He knew he couldn't call out to her though, because if he did, he would lose what precious oxygen he had. _

_Damon exited the last room and noticed that the attic ladder was down and that the door was open. He climbed up the ladder and, sure that Elena was up here. She always loved the attic. When he reached the top, he looked around and screamed at what he saw._

_He was too late._

Damon shot up in his bed, cursing. He had been having the same dream since returning to Arapahoe, and could remember every detail except the end. He never could remember what he saw that made him scream and wake up, and Damon wasn't sure he wanted to remember.

A week had past since Damon had moved back into his old home. He had cleaned up most of the cobwebs on the first floor and was just starting to make his way to the second. He hadn't gone into town much — he didn't particularly want many people to know he was home. When he did after to get groceries, he drove twenty minutes over to New Bern where he was less likely to be recognized. Every night he called his mother to check in on her to see how she was doing, and every night she lied and said she was ok. But Damon knew that she was haunted by his father's memory. The sooner he convinced her to move to an apartment in Raleigh, the better.

Today, Saturday, Damon decided he was going to have a break from cleaning. He knew that cleaning the second floor was going to be much harder than cleaning the first, and he hadn't been sleeping well. He shuddered thinking about his dream.

Damon got up and made his childhood bed, threw on his leather jacket, and headed off to crank the generator. His combat boots were by the front door and he slipped them on, not bothering with the laces. It was an early fall morning, and the North Carolina coastal air was slightly crisp. Damon went to the garage, restored the house's power, and stared out at the Salvatore field. The weeds had grown so high they came up to Damon's knees and were packed densely together, making it hard to walk. Damon made a mental note to pull out the ancient lawn mower to clear out the field.

Staring out, Damon could spot the old tire swing at the edge of the field where the grass meets the forest. His father had put up that tire when Damon was little, but after Damon entered 6th grade, it was neglected until Elena had wanted to explore and have a picnic. The high school couple ended up swinging on it all afternoon, and had made love for the first time that night. Damon ran a hand through his hair smiled at the memory. It was one of the better days with Elena.

Growing sadly nostalgic, Damon sighed and headed back into the house to have breakfast. This house had too many memories to sell to some stranger — but good and bad. He would slide down the railings of the stairs, build forts from sticks in the forest, and built his first few mechanic creations in the garage. _But, everything must end,_ Damon thought somberly.

Damon's day was fairly unproductive. He answered a few work email wondering concerning the his current project from the university. He was attempting to bring more alternative energy options to the state to prevent fracking. Damon had doubled majored in environmental and engineering at NC State and went on the get his masters degree in engineering from MIT. While Damon enjoyed Boston, he preferred the slower pace of the South and moved back down to Raleigh to research and teach.

Damon got caught up in his work and before he knew it, it was 5:00 pm. Forgetting to have lunch, Damon was starving. He cursed out loud. He had meant to call Alaric and invite him to dinner. Maybe he could meet his high school friend at a bar in Bayboro to catch up. While making his decision about whether or not to do so, Damon pulled out chicken and other ingredients he needed to make chicken Alfredo.

After making his food, Damon settled into the family couch and turned on the old TV, flipping it to the local news. Damon was mindlessly watching the news, not quite absorbing any of the information, when he heard it. Elena's giggles. They surrounded him, just like in his dream. Damon jumped up, dropping his plate on the floor and spun around.

"Hello?" he furiously called, his voice echoing around the room. "Who's there and what kind of sick game are you playing?" Damon shouted, his jaw clenched.

The giggling continued and Damon ran through the first floor, searching every room. There was no one to be found. The giggling rang out, seeming to grow louder and Damon let out a scream, rushing up the stairs, throwing open doors and knocking over the contents of each room.

"Elena!" Damon called, climbing up the stairs to the third floor. His heart accelerated and his stomach clenched - this was too much like his dream. When he reached the top of the stairs, the giggling engulfed him, making him lose every other sense. "Fuck," Damon whimpered as he looked up. The attic ladder was down and the door was open.

Absorbed in the giggles, Damon robotically climbed up the ladder and entered the attic, standing on the small platform. Across from him, sitting in the window, was Elena. Damon stared, petrified, and she raised her head, a grin forming across her face.

Elena was as beautiful and mystical as Damon remembered her being. In the ten years of their separation, her eyes hadn't dimmed. Surely Damon was going crazy! This magnificent creature couldn't be his Elena...The image of Elena bit her lower lip, a habit that still had not lost its effect on Damon, and released her award-winning grin.

"Damon!" her voice twinkled. "It has been too long!" Elena danced over to him and enveloped him one of her signature hugs, and Damon couldn't help but return her affection. He breathed in her sweet, floral scent, tears threatening to fall.

He knew he must be hallucinating. This couldn't be his Elena. This had to be a dream. His Elena had died ten years ago. She released him from the hug and Damon stood before her, speechless. He cupped her face and searched her face, tracing over her eyebrows and her delicate nose to her full lips. He could feel her. She was solid before him.

"Elena?" he whispered. "How is this...how is this possible?" he asked, eyes glistening. Elena's face contorted into a concerned expression, and then she laughed.

"What are you going on about, Damon?" she replied, reaching up to cradle his face in return. Damon leaned into her palm, kissing her wrist and absorbing her warmth. He closed his eyes and steadied his heart rate. "You've changed so much," she murmured, and Damon felt her reach and run her fingers through his cropped hair. He shivered, enjoying the feeling. He opened his eyes and met her round, brown orbs.

"You haven't changed a bit," he breathed, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He lowered his hand to her waist and pulled her in close, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

He felt her clasp her arms around his neck and she began to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. She moved her hips, gently grinding on Damon. He groaned into her, adoring the familiar physical gesture, and without thinking, began to nibble her neck, starting at the base and working his way up to the hollow behind her ear. She moaned softly and tilted her head back, allowing him better access. He sucked his way back down, groaning the sweet taste of her skin as she gently rolled her hips against Damon. He growled at stopped his assault on her neck, bringing his face up, resting his forehead against hers. Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted and her breathing was shallow. Damon smirked and Elena giggled, opening her eyes.

"Well, you haven't totally changed," she laughed, molding herself closer to him. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Take me, Damon. I've missed you so much." Elena then began to bite his ear lobe, and Damon moaned, closing his eyes.

"Downstairs. My room. _Now_," he commanded, releasing her to climb down the ladder. When he reached the bottom, he realized she wasn't right behind him. "Coming down?" he called up. He waited, but was met with silence. Confused, Damon climbed back into the attic. "Elena?"

Poking his head up, he looked around the room, furious. Elena was nowhere to be found. "Elena?" he called out. What had just happened? "Elena!" he yelled, angrily. He struggled to climb into the attic, but lost his footing, causing him to fall, sliding backwards on the ladder. Damon smacked his head on the entrance to the attic and the hanging door before he finally fell on his ass on the hardwood floor. "_Fuck_!" he swore, rubbing the back of his head, searching for a bump. There was none. "God_damn_ it! Elena!" Damon hollered, beginning to climb up the ladder once more.

When Damon reached the top, however, the door was closed. Damon pushed against it, but it was locked. Grunting he punched the wood, ignoring the stabbing pain in his knuckle. When that didn't work, he forced his whole body into it, leading with his shoulder.

"Elena!" He roared, slamming into the door. "Elena! _Fuck_—" Losing his balance once more, he slid down a few steps, quickly grabbing the ladder to steady himself. Pissed off, Damon tried to push open the door once more with his shoulder. It wouldn't budge. Damon slid down the ladder and leaned against it, putting his head in his hands, breathing heavy. "Elena," he gasped through a shallow breath. _What the fuck just happened?_ Damon thought, pulling on his hair. "_Fucking shit!_ Elena!" Damon cried, punching the wall beside him. _I need a drink_.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_Ghost Love~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

"Damon, what's the emergency?" a man shouted, bursting through the Salvatore's front door. Damon looked up from his place on the couch, taking another swig of bourbon from the bottle. "Shit, Damon," the man said, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack beside the door.

"Alaric! Welcome!" Damon slurred, greeting his high school best friend Alaric Saltzman. "Damn! Look how you've grown up!" Damon struggled to get up from his spot on the couch. "What brings you to my humble abode?" he asked, swaying as he let out a deep, welcoming bow.

"You called me, Damon. Remember?" Alaric asked, approaching the plastered Damon.

"Oh," Damon replied, furrowing his eyebrows. "Right," he murmured, taking another shot from the bottle. "Well now that you're here, would you like a drink?" Damon offered the bottle to his friend, who ignored it.

"Why did you call, Damon? What was the emergency?" Alaric insisted, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other placed on his hip.

"Emergency? Did I really say that?" Damon asked, shrugging off his lack of memory, plopping back down on the couch.

"Yes, you did, which is why I left Isobel and rushed here—"

"Guess who I saw?" Damon interrupted, kicking his feet onto the coffee table.

Alaric shot Damon a confused look. "Who?" the man asked. Damon let out a sinister laugh.

"Elena," Damon dragged out the name, proceeding to take another sip from the bottle. "I saw Elena Gilbert. Elena _fucking_ Gilbert—"

"Damon, that's impossible," Alaric flatly said, his face going white and his eyes widening. "You couldn't have seen her, she's—"

"Dead? Yeah, I know," Damon snapped bitterly. Wincing, he took another swig of the bourbon, trying to block the memory from earlier today. "So imagine my surprise when I see her in my attic, my fucking _attic_ of all places. Imagine my surprise when she holds me, and I can _smell_ her. Fuck, Alaric, she smelt _exactly_ the same," Damon whispered, staring up at his best friend. Damon clenched his jaw in attempt to stop his tears.

"Damon, I don't think—" Alaric began, sitting next to his friend on the couch.

"I'm going crazy, Ric," Damon whispered. "This house is making— it's making me _see_ things." Alaric stared at Damon, concern clearly clouding his face. Sighing, Alaric reached out and grabbed the bottle from Damon.

"I'm going to need to be drunk for this conversation," he said, taking a large gulp of the amber colored liquid.

Damon proceed to tell Ric what had happened earlier that morning, unaware that Elena was watching the two men from the stairs, quietly smiling.

* * *

**Hello lovely people! I hope you liked this chapter - it was a little intense to write! **

**I strongly encourage everyone to check out my tumblr (link on profile) because that's where you can find updates about this story, future stories, and other fun Vampire Diary realted things! **

**Let me know what you think by leaving a pretty little review! A HUGE thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far!**

**Elizabeth**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot :)**

* * *

_Chapter 4: Location_

Damon woke up on the couch, dazed and with a splitting headache. The clock on the mantel read 3:00am. Fucking bourbon, he thought, groaning. To is left, Alaric was sprawled out on the armchair in what looked like an uncomfortable contortion. Ideprofin, Damon decided, grunting as he got off the couch and walked to the bathroom.

For the rest of the previous night, Damon explained to Alaric what he had seen and heard and felt. Alaric didn't believe him. He didn't understand how Elena could be in the Salvatore house when she was dead.

_"Damon, are you sure this isn't...I don't know, misplaced grief?" Alaric slurred, his eyes bloodshot, having had a few shots himself._

_"How are you even, even, even speaking well? Fuck you and your tolerance, Ric," Damon coughed, taking another swig._

_"No, but seriously, did you ever actually grieve for Elena?" Ric persisted, leaning forward to look Damon in the eye._

_"What makes you say that?" Damon grumbled angrily, running his hand over his cropped hair._

_"I mean, you didn't go to her funeral, you just picked up and let for school -"_

_"Well, what's the point, Ric? What's the fucking point?" Damon said, jumping off the couch and beginning to pace. "So it makes me feel better? So what? For how long? A minute, a day? What difference does it make?" Damon leaned against the couch and stared pointedly at Ric, throwing all of his aggression into what he was about to say. "Because in the end, when you lose somebody, every candle, every prayer is not going to make up for the fact that the only thing you have left is hole in your life where that somebody that you cared about used to be." Ric stared back, at a loss for words. "Don't look at me like I'm some pitiful creature, Ric," Damon sneered, reaching for the bottle. "Fuck it's empty. I'm going to go grab more from the cabinet."_

Damon scowled thinking about their conversation, grabbing two tablets from the plastic jar. Alaric didn't know anything. Here he was acting like a head shrink when he was really just a high school professor. Pathetic, Damon thought grumpily. Knocking the pills back, Damon leaned down to get water from the faucet, wishing to turn off his thoughts.

"Shit!" Damon cursed, hitting his head on the open cabinet door while lifting his head. Rubbing the spot, Damon closed the door a little too roughly, breaking the hinge. "Great another thing to fix," he mumbled, staring into the mirror. He examined his eyes, noticing the bags forming underneath them. Wrinkles dotted along the corners of his eyes and covered his forehead. Damon sighed. For only being 28, he sure did look old.

"What are you staring at?" a feminine voice asked from behind Damon, causing him to shout out. He quickly turned around to see Elena leaning against the bathroom door frame, an eyebrow raised.

"Elena?" he breathed, completely confused. Damon's spin stiffened as she approached him, resting her palm on his cheek. He let out a shaky breath.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned. Damon felt his heart break as he got lost in her eyes, eyes that were always full of light and mischief and glee. Eyes that were supposed to be closed forever. Damon clenched his jaw.

"I'm still drunk, I have to be," he mumbled, running his hand through her long brown locks, savoring the soft texture.

"I know you and Ric drank yourselves silly," Elena chuckled, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb. "But you're making no sense. By the way, Ric has gotten old. When did he stop shaving and decide stubble was the way to go?" she giggled, cocking her head to the side.

Damon closed his eyes tightly and began to mutter, "You're not real. This isn't real. It can't be. You're not real..." He gasped when he felt her cup his face, tracing from his temple to his jaw line.

"Damon, I'm worried about you. What are you talking about?" Elena curiously asked tilting her head.

He took a deep breath and began to count to ten, pacing his breath. "7...8...9...10," Damon opened his eyes, expecting to wake up from his dream, but there she was, still manifested in front of him. Damon couldn't believe it. "Elena," he breathed, contemplating how he would phrase his next sentence. "How are you here?"

Elena let out an uneasy chuckle. "I walked from home," she responded, "I've been waiting for you to come back from State all year."

Damon furrowed his eyebrows, frustrated. "Elena that's not what I..." Damon stopped mid sentence, realizing what she said, confused by her statement. He graduated from State six years ago. "Elena, what year do you think it is?" He cupped her face, wanting her to focus. Elena stared back at him as if he was mad. _Maybe I am mad,_ Damon thought somberly.

"Damon, it's 2004, what are you going on about —"

"No, Elena, no it's not. It is November 8th, 2013." Damon paused, waiting to see her reaction.

Elena huffed, rolling her eyes. "Ha, ha, very funny, Damon," she grumbled, annoyance tainting her voice. "Stop joking around."

"I'm not joking," Damon repeated seriously. "It is November 8th, 2013, here, I can prove it." Damon dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, opening up the calendar app. He showed his phone to Elena, who took the iPhone with shaking hands.

"What are you...this doesn't...Damon..." Elena stuttered. She angrily pushed away his phone, dropping it, and turned away from Damon. "I don't like this joke, Damon!" She spat, turning towards him. Damon held up in his hands and slowly walked towards her, and she took a step back. "No, Damon, stop, this is sick, you can't do this —"

"Elena, —"

"What you're saying to me...it's...it's crazy —"

"Elena, I need you —"

"Maybe you changed more than I had thought —"

"Elena —"

"I don't like this new you, Damon —

"Elena! Listen to me! It's been ten years since I've last seen you, of course I've changed," Damon demanded, causing Elena to pause. She stared at him, confusion marking her face, her eyes beginning to glisten. "And maybe, maybe I'm the crazy one," Damon chuckled darkly, "But I don't care. Because you're here. And I thought that would be impossible, to see you, to hear you, Christ to fucking touch you again. I thought all of it would be impossible. But you're here, you're actually here." Damon stormed forward, closing the distance between them, took Elena's face in his hands, and kissed her passionately, as if she was his life force. Elena responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck and stretching up on her toes.

She briefly pulled back, staring up at him, and whispered, "I believe you. But Damon...what does this mean? Have I...am I insane?"

Damon responded by pushing her against the bathroom door, hoisting her legs up and around his waist. "I don't fucking care. I'm not letting you leave me again, Elena," Damon growled, nibbling on her ear.

"What do you mean, again—" Elena's question was cut off by Damon's lips as he continued his earlier kiss, biting her bottom lip and making her moan.

Damon's hands, which were gripping Elena's bottom and supporting her weight, began to softly knead her flesh, causing Elena to tighten her legs around him, pulling him closer. Damon unconsciously began to grind into her, his length meeting with Elena's most sensitive spot, causing her to whimper and meet each motion with as much gusto and passion as she could muster. Damon began to kiss down her jaw to her the flesh of her chest, exposed by her tank top. Encouraged by the sounds being emitted from Elena, Damon separated himself from her chest to pull of her top, leaving her chest exposed. Damon admired her bra-covered breasts and worshiped them, placing gentle kisses across the mounds and down through the valley of her cleavage. Elena arched her back to meet his warm mouth, panting.

Elena reached around to the hem of his dress-shirt and began to unbutton it slowly. Damon shivered at the feeling of her fingers across his chest and moved her off the wall and out of the bathroom, carrying her up the stairs and to his childhood bedroom. He threw her on the bed and quickly removed the now loose shirt and jumped on the bed, making sure to not crush Elena with his weight. She laughed at his eager antics, and he began to assault her exposed neck while Elena struggled to unbutton his jeans, brushing against him, causing him to breathily swear.

Damon kicked off his jeans and briefs and then proceeded to kiss down Elena's torso, past her breast and her naval until he was able to unclasp her bellbottoms and pull them down along with her panties.

Damon kissed her center ever so gently, and Elena growled. "No, I'm ready, I want to feel you, Damon," she breathily whispered. Wasting no time, Damon entered her and proceeded to make love to Elena, softly at first, and casually growing faster and faster to the rhythm of their heartbeats.

Damon hadn't felt this whole, this completed, in a long time. His senses were filled only with Elena, and his desire was fueled by the primal urge to please and pleasure her. He was metaphorically flying blissfully high, his thoughts clouded by the sounds of Elena's moans, and his grunts. He could feel every small movement she made — her nails scratching his back, her legs wrapped around his waist, her long hair flowing and brushing his shoulder. They reached their peak together, and it was in that moment that Damon was unashamedly happy.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Ghost Love~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

The next day Damon realized he needed more groceries and that he didn't have enough gas to go into New Bern. After waking up and realizing Elena had disappeared, he begrudgingly grabbed Alaric and dragged him to the market. He was frustrated that she had disappeared again, and Alaric could sense Damon's frustration. They both decided it would be better not to bring the topic up.

Gliding his cart through the local grocery Damon went straight towards the liquor section, sorely disappointed by their lack of options. I'll have to run to the ABC store, he thought, irked at the amount of errands he was running.

Stirring towards the cereals, Damon's mind began to drift towards thoughts of Elena. He wondered how she was appearing and disappearing so suddenly. How could he touch her? Was he hallucinating? Her appearances didn't logically make sense. _What was happening?_ He thought. _None of this is even possible —_

Damon's thoughts were interrupted when he ran his cart into someone else.

"Sorry," he mumbled insensibly. "Wasn't watching where I was going." Damon began to move around the stranger when he stopped in his tracks. "Jeremy?"

Standing in front of Damon was Elena's younger brother, Jeremy. Damon only had a few interactions with the kid, him being a freshman when Damon had last seen him. He had definitely grown up. While Jeremy used to be scrawny and short, he now toward over Damon in both height and physical stature. If it wasn't for his boyish face, Damon never would have recognized him.

Jeremy's face filled with recognition. "Damon? Since when did you get back in town?"

"Oh, um last week. Cleaning out the house," Damon replied awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. The last time Damon had seen Jeremy was when the kid barged into the Salvatore house and demanded to know where Damon was. He was royally pissed because Damon hadn't attended Elena's funeral and was drinking in the attic. He had never seen Jeremy that angry before.

"Oh, yeah, no one had really been there since...uh, well since you're parents moved," Jeremy fumbled, clenching his jaw. He remembered everything just as vividly as Damon did.

"Hey, Jer, I got the milk—" a voice interrupted, breaking the silence. Damon turned and held back a grimace. "Damon, is that you?" the man said holding out a hand.

"Yeah, hey Stefan, how are you?" Damon replied, grasping Stefan's hand and shaking it firmly. He gripped Stefan's palm tightly, causing Stefan to flinch subtilly, but not going unnoticed by Damon. Stefan was the Gilbert's neighbor who attended a private school in Wilmington. When he was home, however, he had been infatuated with Elena.

"Good, I'm doing well. Starting up an environmentally friendly town-wide plumbing system, have been since college. And you?" Stefan bragged, attempting to show off. Damon fought not to roll his eyes.

"Fine, yeah, I'm just back in town for a bit," Damon replied, not bothering to compete with Stefan.

"Yeah, that's good, you know especially since you didn't help with any of the post-funeral "clean up", I'm sure the town, and the Gilbert's will completely welcome a visit ten years later—"

"Stefan," Jeremy reprimanded, glaring. Stefan smirked and shrugged.

"Well, uh, yeah, I'm going to go," Damon said wirely, not liking to be reminded of the aftermath. "Good to see you guys." Damon turned around and began to walk away, forgetting his shopping entirely.

"Hey, Damon," Jeremy called, causing him to pause. "She's over at 5th Street Cemetery, if you...want to see her." Damon nodded, and continued his walk.

This was exactly why he hated small towns.

* * *

_**For those who are confused:**_

**Damon and Elena graduated high school in 2003**

**Damon graduated from NC State in 2007**

**Damon graduated from MIT in 2011**

**The story takes place in 2013**

**Elena thinks it is 2004, when Damon's freshman year would have ended**

**Damon arrived at his house late at night on October 31st**

**I hope that helps clear things up! Sorry for this being a little late. I wanted to get it up yesterday but school got in the way. You guys should TOTALLY check out my tumble (link on profile) for more up-to-date updates! **

**Let me know what you think by leaving a pretty little review!**

**Elizabeth**


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